Archer
by TakatoRikku
Summary: It's the summer of Harry's fourth year, going into year five. When Uncle Vernon freaks out on him for hiding in the bushes for listening to the news, Harry books it and lands up at Number 2 for a surprise. No paring yet
1. Chapter 1

Hmm, here's a new idea I've not seen yet, well, that didn't involve High Elves...

Disclaimer: Don't own Harry Potter, give it up lawyers of J.K. Rowling, you're not gonna make her richer today!

Summary: It's the summer of Harry's fourth year, going into year five. When Uncle Vernon freaks out on him for hiding in the bushes for listening to the news, Harry books it and lands up at Number 2 for a surprise.

**Archer**

"Put it _away_!" Uncle Vernon hissed, jerking Harry's arm as he tried to make the black-haired teen hide his wand. Harry quickly stashed his wand away in his trousers, minding his uncle's beefy hands.

"Alright, alright!" he said, annoyed. "I was just trying to listen in on the news."

Vernon's face turned puce. "And why would you want anything to do with perfectly _normal_ news on the telly?" he snarled. "Beat it, and I don't want to see you until bed time!"

Harry was forced to retreat from his own home, and dejectedly began to walk up Privet Drive, wondering what to do. He shoved his hands into his pockets and kicked a nearby soda can, watching it clatter to the curb of Number Two. Its owner - a fair woman in her forrties - was just heading out her front door and she raised an eyebrow at him.

"Sorry about that," Harry apologized quickly, rushing over to pick up the offending can. "I'm not having a great day."

"You're that Potter boy, aren't you?" Ms. Number Four asked curiously. She was toting a large duffle bag in the shape of a crescent moon. It was quite fat. "Come here, boy."

Harry reluctantly made his way up her driveway, minding the late-model Aston Martin that was parked there. He knew nothing about cars, but it looked very aggressive looking and had the name "V8 Vantage" on one side of the boot, and "Supercharged 550" on the other. It was a sleek dark grey in color. He stopped in front of the older woman, who scrutinized him.

"You don't look like a criminal," she finally announced after several moments, surprising the boy. "In fact, that piggy cousin of yours is more a ruffian than anyone else I know! Tell me, you don't go to St. Brute's, do you?"

Harry fidgeted. "Er, no ma'am, I go to a boarding school that my parents attended up north," he answered nervously.

She 'tch'ed. "That sounds about right," she said with a nod. "So Potter, what are you doing today, other than kicking soda cans around?"

"Just going for a walk?"

She waved her hand, the one that wasn't carrying what appeared to be a heavy bag. "Youth these days," she lamented, "Don't do much other than lollygag about and cause mischief! You shall come with me Mr. Potter, and maybe _learn_ something!"

She began to usher him towards the car, ignoring his protests of "I'm fine, really!"

Fifteen minutes later, she and Harry were cruising along the motorway, heading for some country club.

"My name is Elizabeth Cooper," she introduced herself. "I moved onto Privet Drive quite a while before your relatives did, though I don't go out much. I'm divorced, with no children sadly. However, I'm also a lawyer, and a bloody good one at that since that no-good husband of mine is probably rotting away on the streets right now."

Harry nodded and gave a half-hearted smile at her story. "Well, my full name is Harry James Potter, and as you know, I live with my relatives," he said, trying to make conversation.

"An odd lot, those Dursleys," she commented, and Harry grinned.

"My parents were killed when I was younger," Harry said with a frown. "Since then, I've been stuck with the Dursleys."

"You poor boy," Ms. Cooper said genuinely, and Harry laughed. "Listen Harry, we are going to an archery club, do you know what that is?"

Harry scratched his head. "A club where you... shoot arrows?" he asked lamely.

Ms. Cooper laughed genially. "Well, I suppose that's the gist of it," she chuckled, pulling into a long gravel driveway. "Here we are, welcome to Nookingtons!"

Nookinton's Archery Club was very large and fancy-looking. Harry felt that he looked very out of place with his hand-me-down clothes from Dudley, and he walked behind Ms. Cooper slowly as he carried her heavy bag. She flashed her membership card at the receptionist, and paid for Harry's fee despite his protest.

"Nonsense," was all she said as they entered the locker room. "I've simply too much money to waste on myself, and you may as well learn something today Harry."

He was quickly shown to a gent's changeroom, where he was handed some sporty-looking clothes by an attendent. They consisted of a white sport tee with Umbro shorts. He was also given tennis shoes as well, and felt rather spiffy in them.

Harry exited the changeroom to see Ms. Cooper dressed in a similar garb, except that she understandably wore a skirt instead of shorts. She had her bag with her, and they were led to a private shooting range. Harry sat down on a nearby bench as Ms. Cooper unzipped her bag and pulled out what looked like a dissassembled bow. The attendents went to set up targets in the distance.

"This is a traditional recurve bow Harry," Ms. Cooper explained as she fit the arms to the grip and tightened the bolts with practiced ease. "Much less complex than those fancy compound bows, no finicky parts to worry about and easy to take care of."

She finished assembling it and Harry looked at the bow in awe. It was made out of some sort of high quality polished wood, and the grip was contoured and curved to fit Ms. Cooper's hand. The upper and lower arms were made out of some sort of black material, and looked very flexible. The bowstring also had a thicker area near the center, and Harry supposed that that was where the arrow went.

"This is a PSE Impala bow," Ms. Cooper explained, checking her bow to make sure everything was okay. She drew the string back and gently let it back forward. "It is sixty inches long, with a brace height of seven. The draw weight (how much weight on the string) is set to 35 pounds. Are you with me so far?"

"Yes ma'am," Harry answered, intrigued.

She nodded briskly, setting the bow down in Harry's hands for him to see it. He ran his hands over it softly, marveling at its beauty. She quickly strapped a belt on her waist, which held a quiver pack on her right side. She then strapped an arm guard on her right forearm, and some sort of glove-like clip on her right hand. She took a handful of arrows out from a pouch in her bag and put them in the quiver. Reaching out, she accepted her bow from Harry and walked onto the range. Harry followed her.

"Those targets are about fifty feet away Harry," she said, pointing to the three targets on the range. "Luckily, there is no wind today, no doubt due to the high heat, so I won't have to compensate for it. Watch carefully Mr. Potter."

She drew an arrow from her hip quiver and notched it on the bowstring. The arrow had a simple metal pointed tip, and looked to be made out of the same black material the arms on the bow were made out of.

"Legs shoulder width apart, arms taut," Ms. Cooper said, taking a shooting stance. "Draw your arm back slowly, no need to rush it... Squeeze your back muscles and... There!"

She let loose her arrow and it flew off, the bowstring making a quiet _snap_ as it did so. The arrow _thunk'd!_ into the wooden target a few inches shy of the bullseye. She shrugged, and turned to Harry. "Did you get that?" she asked.

"Yes ma'am!" Harry said with a grin. He decided that he liked archery _very_ much. He was very surprised when Ms. Cooper dropped the bow into his hands. "Er, Ms. Cooper?"

"Well, go on!" she said irritably, pushing him onto the range. "Remember what I told you, and don't mess it up, I'd hate to pay for damage fees! Here, take an arrow!"

Harry nervously notched the arrow on the bowstring as he had seen Ms. Cooper do and pulled it back, gripping the arrowtail tightly. He tried to accomplish the 'shoulder squeeze' as she had described, but didn't know if he did it successfully or not. Aiming was also hard as well. Was he supposed to use that crosshair-like thingy on the bowgrip, or look down the arrow shaft? The crosshair looked confusing, for it had 5 points instead of one!

"You may look down the shaft of the arrow if you'd like," Ms. Cooper called from behind him. "Or, if you would prefer better accuracy, use the sight. Each point denotes range you see. If you look closely, you'll see numbers."

Harry squinted (wearing glasses while using a bow was hard) and could see green numbers that went from 0-150 in denominations of 25 feet. So, he would have to aim with the third point then? Harry raised the bow up slightly and made sure the very tip of the point was on the bullseye of the middle target. He took a deep breath, held it and let go.

_Thwack!_

"Bravo Harry, bravo!" Ms. Cooper cheered, clapping as she walked up to his side. Harry let the bow down with a deep breath. It was exhilirating! He was patted on the shoulder by Ms. Cooper.

"Not a bad shot for a first timer my boy!" she said. "You got it in the middle ring, but dead on with the bullseye height! You twisted your grip on the bow at the last moment, that was probably why, and your draw was a bit longer than mine, but good job nonetheless!"

"That was brilliant!" Harry said with a grin. "I can see why you like this!"

Ms. Cooper smiled down at him. "Archery is such an art," she fawned. "I'm sure you'd love it! Come now, let me teach you the basics, it's only two in the afternoon after all!"

-----

"Where have you been boy?" Vernon asked as Harry dragged himself in the front door with a silly grin on his face. Ms. Cooper had worked him ragged for a few hours, and his arms felt like noodles. "It's half-past ten!"

"Sorry Uncle Vernon," Harry apologized lightly. "Ms. Cooper from Number Two insisted that I spend the day with her."

"Cooper eh?" Vernon asked. "The lawyer woman?"

"That's right Vernon dear," Aunt Petunia called from the living room. "She's a lovely lady, quite sophisticated. If she wants to spend time with the boy, then let him be!"

"Very well then," Vernon said brusquely. "Listen here Potter, if spending time with that old lady keeps you out of trouble and _especially_ keeps you _normal_ then I'm all for it!"

He took his wallet out and gave Harry two five pound notes. "And I don't want you taking advantage of Ms. Cooper's generosity!" he snarled. "If you go out for tea with her, you'd better bloody well buy your own, got it?"

Harry could hardly believe his ears. "Yes, crystal," he answered, before dashing upstairs to his room.

Hedwig gave him a happy hoot as he closed the door, and he set the pound notes on his desk before grabbing some parchment and ink. His friends, Ron and Hermione hadn't written him at all this summer, but he sent some letters to them anyways. He quickly wrote off two short letters, which he gave to Hedwig before sending her out for the night. He quickly undressed down to his boxers and jumped into his ratty bed. Ms. Cooper wanted him to go shopping with her in London tomorrow at ten AM sharp, so he would need his sleep.

-----

"So what are you buying today?" Harry asked as the Vantage snaked past slow-moving Volvos and Fiats easily. "Groceries?" He had gone grocery shopping with his Aunt Petunia a few times when he was younger. 

"Something... better," was all she said, and then it was a pleasently quiet trip thereafter.

They arrived at a normal-looking shopping strip, where Harry was amused by the store sign, _Merlin Archery Equipment_. It was quite hilarious to the young wizard. They stepped out, and Harry dutifully followed the older woman, thinking that she was buying some parts for her bow, or maybe more arrows. The inside of the shop was quite nicely organized, and clean. They walked up to a jolly-looking fellow who had greying hairs on his head.

"'Ello Lizzy, wot can I do for you today?" the man asked jovially.

"Hello Tom, Mr. Potter here needs his first bow," she replied primly, and Harry did a double take.

"Ms. Cooper, what -"

"Hush Harry, the grown-ups are talking."

Harry's mouth snapped shut at the reprimand as he began to watch Ms. Cooper and Tom, the owner argue about proper bows and accessories.

"Since he's a starter, we don't want to get him anything _too_ fancy," Tom argued. "A PSE like yours, but maybe a lower model would be a fine choice, or maybe a -"

"Nonsense, Potter's a natural with a bow!" Ms. Cooper argued. "Get him a Hoyt, you can't go wrong with one of those!"

Tom rubbed his chin. "They're very advanced bows Lizzy," he said sagely. He gave Harry a quick look. "I'm not sure if he can handle one."

"Well then pick one off the bloody rack and let him have a go with it!" Ms. Cooper retorted. Tom chuckled with a shake of his head and went into the backroom for a few minutes.

Harry decided that now was a good time to speak up. "Um, Ms. Cooper, you don't have to buy me a bow, I don't want to -"

"Poppycock," she waved him off. "It's my money, and I shall do whatever I wish with it! Besides, a shooting partner sounds very nice! Ah, there you are Tom!"

Tom came back out with two bows in his hands, both looking to be made out of something plastic-like. One was a deep blue and the other glossy black. Tom set them on the glass counter and they peered at them.

"These are the new Hoyt models," he explained. "That blue one there is the Helix, and the black 'un is a custom model I designed."

The blue Helix itself looked quite impressive, with a hollow-design in the grip, but it looked incredibly sturdy. It was a very attractive bow.

"Both are recurve bows of course," Tom continued. "The grips are made out of carbon fibre, as are the risers, aka arms. However, the custom black model features three stabilizer weights, which you can spot right away no doubt."

Indeed, the black one had three cylinders affixed to the grip. One was very skinny and long, measuring about 1cmX40cm. It was directly where an arrow shaft would hover beside the grip. The other two were fatter and shorter, each being about 4cmX10cm. They were also on the grip, but went diagonally out, down and backwards from their attachments.

"Those help your bow keep steady while aiming and firing," Tom explained to Harry. "They also look damned nice too."

Harry was hard-pressed to disagree.

"Now, this black un's got a custom sight on it as well, using some new fibre-optic crosshairs," Tom announced, holding the bow up. "See that?"

Indeed, Harry could see a large round sight on the grip, which Tom explained was a 'holosight'. It used beams of sunlight, or any light to light up the crosshair tips so that you could aim much easily with it. It was ranged for 25-250 feet.

Tom set the black bow down, noticing Harry's eager look. "Now, this is not a bow for amatuers, or beginners," he said sternly, ignoring Ms. Cooper's huff. "The draw pull on it is adjustable from 26-48 inches, which should be fine for you, but the pull weight is a very heavy sixty pounds."

"That _is_ quite a bit," Ms. Cooper mused. "Oh well, Potter looks like a strong lad, he can handle it. We'll take it!"

"Wait, what?!" Harry choked. Tom shook his head and grabbed the bow.

"I'll go pack it up then," he called over his shoulder. "Give me a minute."

"Ms. Cooper, honestly, I don't -"

"Ta ta, Mr. Potter!" Ms. Cooper scolded. "You told me your birthday was coming up soon, so consider it my gift to you! Do you understand?"

Harry deflated. "I can't begin to thank you enough!" he sighed.

"Think nothing of it, you're a nice boy Harry, you should be spoiled rotten!"

Tom came back out and started to ring up the price. Ms. Cooper also bought Harry a hip quiver like hers, but more masculine (black to match his bow, and not so hip-hugging like a womans') and a bow holster that would fit on the rear of his waist. Since this bow was customized, it actually had a lever that made it fold up completely, making transportation very quick and easy. The folded end product would slide into a leather holster on the back of Harry's belt. Harry also ended up getting several types of arrows, ranging from wood to carbon fibre, to see what he liked. He also picked out a sporty carry bag that would carry the bow, three dozen arrows no longer than fifty inches, a case of tools and his arm gear that he also picked out. The total price was something Harry dreaded to look at, and he was pretty sure he heard 'something thousand' in there.

They quickly visited the club afterwards, where harry was familiarized with his new bow. True to Tom's word, the draw pull was very heavy, but Harry managed to get it done after a few dozen tries. The velocity of which his arrows flew far exceeded Ms. Cooper's Impala, which was made for sport shooting. Harry could have hunted with his bow if he wanted to. The speeds of which his arrows flew were chronographed at flying in excess of 600 feet per second! It was practically a firearm!

"Don't tell anyone about that certain fact," Ms. Cooper had warned him later that evening. "Don't want to get in trouble, eh?"

Harry waved goodbye to a happy Elizabeth Cooper at nine in the evening, and trudged up the driveway of Number Four, carrying his bowbag on his back easily. Though his arms and shoulders were quite sore, Harry felt very exhilirated. Who knew that archery was so fun? Harry went to bed smiling that night, and didn't even write a letter to his friends.

-----

It was several evenings later (nearning Harry's birthday) when Harry was returning from where Ms. Cooper had dropped him off. She had explained that she had forgotten to do something nearby, so she had dropped Harry off on Magnolia Crescent with apologies before speeding off, but not before reminding him of the small tournament that they were attending in August. So, Harry was walking down the street when he noticed Dudley walking home through the small tunnel that led into Privet Drive.

"Oy, Dudders!"

His cousin turned around and gave a surprised look at seeing Harry around this place at night. "What do you want, Harry?" he asked annoyedly.

Harry caught up to his porky cousin easily and they walked together through the tunnel. "Just thought I'd walk with you home," he said.

"Whatever. What's in the bag?" Dudley eyed the sports bag curiously. Since Harry wasn't around much for Dudley and his gang to bully, he had softened up on his cousin, so to speak.

"Oh, my - er - bow," Harry replied, hefting the bag slightly. Dudley's eyes went wide.

"Cool, you've got a bow?" he asked. "What about your freaky magic wand?"

Harry raised his shirt up to show his wand, which was holstered through his belt loop. "Still got it here," he answered, mentally snickering when Dudley inched away a bit.

"Oh, that's a shame," his cousin said offhandedly. "So you took up shooting arrows huh?"

"Yessiree," Harry said. "It's quite fun actually, and - whoa, what's that?"

Both boys had stopped due to the sudden cold that permeated through the tunnel. Dudley began to shiver as the tunnel walls began to frost over, and Harry began to feel terrible. He looked behind them and gasped. A dementor was currently closing in on them from the other end of the tunnel!

"Dudley, run!" Harry shouted, pushing his cousin to move quickly.

"What's going on?" Dudley cried, stumbling as they ran. "Why's it so cold? Are you doing magic?!"

"No, it's not me, it's a - a magical monster, run!" Harry tried to explain. Well, that got his oafish cousin going. The fatter boy picked up the pace, actually leaving Harry behind in his dust, if such a thing were possible. Harry began to feel the effects of the Dementor as he began to hear his mother's screams in his mind, and began to see Cedric's lifeless eyes... He fumbled for his wand.

He felt a large hand grab his own. Startled, Harry looked up to see Dudley dragging him by the arm.

"You can't do your magic outside of school!" Dudley yelled, dragging his thin cousin. "You'll get kicked out, and then dad will have to deal with you all year long! Can't you use your bow?!"

_My bow?_ Harry thought. He quickly swung his bag around and unzipped it, yanking his bow out. He pressed the release lever, and with a flick, his bow snapped into shape. Acting quicking since the Dementor was almost exiting the tunnel (he and Dudley were now on Privet Drive) Harry grabbed a carbon fibre arrow and notched it rapidly, taking a deep breath. He drrew back, squeezed his back muscles and aimed at the Dementor's head. He let the arrow fly.

The Dementor shrieked as the arrow impacted, making its head snap back from the force of the blow. It continued shrieking, but continued to float towards the boys, albiet more painfully. Dudley gripped Harry's shirt tightly, pleading for his cousin to kill the invisible monster. Harry grabbed another arrow in his bag, not caring what it was and notched it. The arrow was wooden, in fact, it reminded him slightly of his wand...

"Oh bleeding hell, why not?" Harry grunted, drawing back. "Er, _Expecto Patronum!_"

He totally did not expect the silver arrowhead to glow - well, silver - as he let it loose, hitting the Dementor in the chest. This time, its screams were even more agonizing, and it flew away almost instantly, making the area around them warm up significantly. Winded, Harry let his bow fall to his side, and he activated the lever, making it fold up. He and his cousin collapsed to the ground, and sat there for quite a long time.

About an hour later, Dudley whispered, "Are we safe now?"

Harry nodded tiredly. "Yeah, yeah, we're safe now," he croaked.

"Thanks Harry."

"Don't mention it."

It was only until they had returned home (to Dudley's parents' fussing) and Harry was in bed that he realized that a ministry owl never came to punish him for underage magic. It was something he filed away for the next day.


	2. Chapter 2

**Archer**

After much begging on his part, Harry had convinced Ms. Cooper to let him purchase some more finer wooden arrows, though she kept telling him that they were inferior compared to the newer, composite ones. He merely told her that he was experimenting on an idea with it. Harry never found out why a Dementor was hanging around Privet Drive, nor did he ever want to, but it ate at his mind occasionally. Mrs. Figg, his batty neighbor that loved cats, had up and told him that she was a squib that was watching over him for Dumbledore, and he made sure to keep his distance from the woman.

His birthday was quite enjoyable for once in his life, and he celebrated it with Ms. Cooper and surprisingly, Dudley at her house. He had a nicely sized chocolate cake, which they all shared and he even recieved twenty pounds from Dudley, and an offer to learn boxing from him. Ms. Cooper of course, got him nothing but the cake, since she had gotten him so much archery kit anyways. It was a very nice first birthday for Harry, one he would remember for quite a while.

Later that night, Harry was busy doing some routine maintenance on his Helix, such as tightening bolts that had gotten loose and cleaning the bowstring. It was nearing 9PM, and all was quiet in the house. Suddenly, Harry heard a noise downstairs, it sounded like a glass breaking. The Dursleys were out for some contest, so no one else could have made the noise. Looking to his desk at his wand, and then the bow, Harry went downstairs with his Helix, notching a new holly arrow in it. He crept down the stairs silently, avoiding the creaking step as well. He saw a few dark figures in the kitchen, all wearing wizarding cloaks. Pulling the arrow back, he measured that he had about 22 feet of range, which would be lethal from his position. Suddenly, one of the figures put their arms up, as if signifying surrender.

"Potter, it's Alastor Moody, put that weapon down!"

Harry kept his bow up as the man who claimed to be Mad-Eye Moody turned around. Spinning blue eye, scarred face, missing chunk of nose, yep, it was Mad-Eye. Harry slowly de-armed his bow. The other three figures turned around to reveal a tall black man, an attractive witch with purple hair and a stately looking with with aristocratic features. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Fancy seeing you in my house at night professor," he said casually, folding his bow and holding onto the arrow loosely with his right hand. The others watched curiously.

"I'm not your professor lad, never was," Moody growled. "And where is your wand?! Shoddy wizard if yer not armed with yer wand boy! CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Harry snorted. "Fat good it'll do me other than get a letter sent by Hopkirk," he shot back. "Besides, this bow can easily pierce through all four of you at this close range, I'd trust it more than my wand."

"Is that so?" Moody snarled, appraising the (much less-) scarred wizard. "Well, if you say so kid. Tonks, fix that glass you broke you clumsy buffoon, and fill it with some water!"

"Sure thing Mad-Eye!" the purple-haired witch said with a smile. "_Reparo! Aguamenti!"_

The broken glass Harry heard earlier fixed itself and water streamed from her wand as it filled it up. Mad-Eye popped out his whizzing blue eye and plunged it around the glass for a bit. "Never did fit right after that scum wore it," he growled. He squelched it back into his eye socket. "Much better!"

"Not to sound suspicious or anything, but why are you all here?" Harry asked.

"You mean no one told you Potter?!" Mad-Eye roared, scaring Harry out of his wits. "We're the advanced guard, come to pick you up and take you to headquarters!"

"Headquarters?" Harry asked.

"Aye, Dumbledore's headquarters for the -"

"Keep it in your voicebox rookie!" Mad-Eye bellowed, cutting Tonks off. "We don't want to give out information to unknown ears!"

He turned to Harry. "Potter!" he ordered. "Get some warm clothes on, and pack your things! We're leaving!"

"I'll help!" the woman named Tonks volunteered cheerfully, following Harry upstairs. "Cor, is this your room?" she asked upon arrival. "It's tiny!"

"Beats living in a cupboard," Harry shrugged, gathering his things. Tonks looked at him with mouth gaping. He started to fold his clothes into his trunk.

"Hey, let me take care of that!" she said, waving her wand. "_Pack!_"

All of Harry's clothes neatly folded and packed themselves into his trunk. A few more waves and all of his supplies were in it as well. "Thanks!" Harry said, staring at her hair. It was quite vivid. She noticed.

"Purple not doing it?" she asked. She scrunched up her nose in concentration. Her hair shortened to a pixie cut, and turned a shocking pink. Harry gaped at her. "How about that?"

"How'd you _do_ that?!" Harry gasped.

She grinned at him. "I'm a Metamorphmagus!" she said proudly. "Can change my appearance at will!"

"Can I do that too?" Harry asked, picking up his bowbag and putting it in his trunk. He donned his belt with holster and quiver, and slid some holly arrows in it. Tonks watched him with fascination.

"Nope, you must be born with it I'm afraid," she said. She poked at Harry's bow. "Can you really kill someone with that?" she asked.

Harry nodded. "I have no doubt about that," he said. "I even scared off a Dementor with it a few days ago."

"Dementor!" Tonks gasped. "What was it doing out here?"

Harry shrugged, opening Hedwig's cage. "Meet up with me later, okay girl?" he told his owl, who nodded and flew out the window. "No idea."

"I'll have to tell Dumbledore about that!" Tonks said seriously, getting up from Harry's bed. "All set? Got your wand on you? Good!"

-----

"We've been flying for hours!" Tonks yelled over the high wind. "Are you mad, Mad-Eye! Can we just land already?!"

"We may have been followed!" Mad-Eye shouted back. "We should double around!"

"I'm pretty cold," Harry called out, though his words were lost in the wind. "I agree with Tonks, can't we - look out!"

All five broomstick flyers swerved to avoid the black blur that nearly upset them off their brooms. "What was that?" the black auror known as Kingsley yelled.

"It's a Dementor!" the stately witch, Hestia cried in fear, as they drew their wands. "Who has a good patronus?"

Their attacks against the Dementor proved futile as it dodged their weakly-formed silver mist easily in the heavy wind. It cut off Tonks, who nearly fell off her broom had it not been for Kingsley, and made a beeline for Harry.

"WATCH IT POTTER!" Mad-Eye bellowed. Harry quickly slid his Helix out of the holster and flicked it open, before notching an arrow in a split second. He was hugging his knees to his Firebolt, but he managed to keep somewhat steady.

"YOUR WAND BOY, YOUR WAND!"

Harry thought about his birthday party with Ms. Cooper and Dudley and drew the arrow back. "_Expecto Patronum!_" he shouted, firing the glowing silver arrow directly into the Dementor's throat. It made a pathetic-sounding shriek and fell out of the sky. Harry could smell burning flesh even in the high wind. He watched the black-cloaked monster fall away from vision. Suddenly, he was grabbed by Mad-Eye.

"Don't know what the bloody hell you did Potter, but good job!" he growled into Harry's ear. "Come on, we're landing, now!"

-----

"A patronus in an arrow you say?"

"You heard me, we all saw it."

"Is this one of those arrows?"

"Yeah, Harry didn't mind me filching it."

"Did the boy _know_ you took it Tonks?"

"Er..."

"This is quite an accomplishment. I will have a short word with young Harry tomorrow morning perhaps. How is young Harry settling in?"

"He's happy to see me. Can't say much about his friends."

"Well you can't blame the poor dear, Sirius! Finding out that his two best friends were pretty much ignoring the poor boy all summer! I'm just glad he had a mother-figure to look after him for most of the summer, even if she's teaching him strange muggle things."

"Now now, we mustn't speak of the muggles as if they are alien to us. They are human as well. But perhaps we should all get some sleep, as I'm sure Harry wants to as well. It is quite late."

Upstairs, Harry finally closed his eyes and rolled over in his bed at Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place as he listened to Ron's snores. It was an eventful summer.


	3. Chapter 3

**Archer**

"So this is where you've been. I've been looking all over the house for you."

Harry smiled and lowered his Helix, turning around to face Sirius. He was out in the backyard, which the house surprisingly had. "Well that would explain your fruitful search, since I've been out here all day," he replied brightly. His godfather snorted.

"Touche," he said. "Practicing with your bow again?"

Harry nodded. "Always," he said. "I don't shoot arrows just because I can, it's great exercise and fun."

"I can see that," Sirius said with a nod, standing beside his godson. He looked at the simple target that Harry had drawn. It was pinned to a rather moldy-looking tree some distance away. A few arrows were scattered about it, most of them surrounding the bullseye, with a few on target. "You're quite good!"

Harry flushed a little. "Not nearly as good as Ms. Cooper," he said. "She's miles better than I am."

Sirius laughed. "Ah Harry, modest as ever I see!" he chuckled. He placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "_Never_ downplay your skills and abilities. Have faith in yourself."

Harry smiled at Sirius' wise words and notched an arrow. He took nearly a minute to aim, and breath properly before letting it sink into the bullseye, shy a little to the left. Sirius beamed.

"What did I tell you?" he said happily. "Now come on in! We've cleared the room full of doxies, and Molly's making us some lunch! Oh, and Dumbledore would like to speak with you."

"What about?" Harry asked curiously, folding his bow and sliding it into his holster as they walked back into the house. They turned into the corridor that led to the kitchen.

"Oh, this and that," Sirius said nonchalantly. "Mostly about your magical bow."

Harry frowned. "This bow is muggle made," he explained.

"Tell it to your 'Patronus Arrows'," Sirius quipped back. They passed by Remus Lupin, who gave Harry an encouraging smile. Harry was ushered into a small office by Sirius, who closed the door behind him. Dumbledore stood at the window, looking outside.

"Ah Harry, good to see you my boy," he greeted, still looking out. "How are you today?"

"I'm fine sir," Harry answered, looking around. "Is there anything you'd like to know?"

Dumbledore laughed softly. "Usually I'd have to ask you if there is anything you'd like to tell me," he said. "You've improved, I see."

He still hadn't turned around to look at Harry. "What I'd like to know is how you were able to imbue your arrows with magic, if you could?"

Harry shrugged. "I honestly have no idea," he said. "I just know that the arrows I bought were made out of the same wood my wand is, so I thought they would, I don't know, channel magic too?"

Dumbledore finally turned around with a genial smile. "Ah, but there is a difference young Harry," he said, looking at him, but not quite in the eyes. "You see, the wood of a wand does indeed help it channel magic, but most of the magic - or should I say, all of it - is generated through the magical core. A wand is merely an instrument Harry, which refines and amplifies your own magic located within your body. You see, it 'tames' your wild magic, so to speak, through incantations and wand movements, refining it into the spell light that you see emitting from its tip. Now, what you did with your arrows was half of that."

"Half, sir?"

"Yes, quite a marvolous stroke of ingenuity, or perhaps luck, in your case," Dumbledore said with a twinkle, making Harry grin. "You see, the wood of a wand also stores and purifies the magic through its grain, before expelling it. The better the grain, the more powerful the spell. Holly - like your wand - and yew - like Voldemort's - channel this quite well, as would most woods with dense grains. What you did those times against the dementors was, in essence, pour your wild magic into the arrow, allowing it to refine - but not amplify due to lack of a core - and remain _inside_ the arrow, turning it into a most potent weapon."

"But sir," Harry protested, "It seemed rather weak to me."

"Ah, of course," Dumbledore answered. "A core would have made it as powerful as your corporeal patronus, but alas, I doubt Mr. Ollivander would appreciate you taking his wand cores for use in disposable arrows, hmm?"

Harry smiled. "I would hardly imagine that," he said with a wry grin. "Er, may I ask you something Professor?"

"You already did, but I think I can indulge you once more," the old headmaster said with a jolly smile.

"Why aren't you looking me in the eye?"

Dumbledore sighed. "That is a question I had dreaded for you to ask," he answered. "Please, shall we sit?"

They both sat and Dumbledore withdrew his wand, conjuring up a tea set. He poured Harry and himself a cup of Orange Pekoe. "Now what I am about to tell you is of the utmost importance, and I beg of you to take it very seriously," he said seriously. Harry nodded.

"Harry, I had originally opted to withhold this information from you, however I then realised that such actions have resulted in your and your friends' direct danger within the years. Had I simply answered you at the end of your first year, when you lay in the hospital after your fight with Quirrel, perhaps things wouldn't have ended so badly at the end of the Triwizard Tournament."

Harry bowed his head at this, remembering Cedric Diggory, who had died not two months ago. Dumbledore let the silence go on for a moment before continuing.

"As it was, your fourth year was even worse. You had been entered into a deadly tournament by an unknown party, and I knew that you could have been grieviously harmed, or killed but still I let you compete, without telling you of my suspicions. When you told me of your strange dreams involving Voldemort, Wormtail and Barty Jr., still I did nothing, even though I had a good idea of what was going on."

Dumbledore looked at Harry remorsefully. "Harry, for what I am about to tell you, I hope that you find it in your heart to forgive an old fool, and I pray that we can work together as a team," he said gravely.

"I'll try my best sir," Harry swallowed nervously.

"I am almost positive that your curse scar provides a mental link to Voldemort's mind, and he can withdraw your memories or even possess you if he wanted to."

-----

"Blimey Harry, are you always out here?" Ron asked as he, Hermione and Ginny walked out into the backyard. Harry was once again practicing with his bow.

"What else am I going to do Ron," Harry answered in annoyance, loosing another arrow, which made a satisfying _thunk_ into the bullseye. "Nice! Gotta remember to keep this setting."

Harry had just tuned the sight on his bow, which allowed it to compensate for the slight twist his wrist made when firing. Ron shuffled his feet.

"You know mate, we would've written you!" he said. "But Dumbledore forbade us from writing to you all summer you see, for your protection..."

"So you couldn't pass on a letter or message to my minders?" Harry asked with a hint of anger, notching another arrow. His friends looked a little guilty. "Or did you not bother at all?"

Hermione chose to speak up. "You have to understand Harry, with You-Know-Who rising up again, and the Ministry not believing you about the Third Task."

_Thunk!_ "What?"

"Oh dear," Hermione muttered to the other two as Harry turned around, his green eyes blazing. "No one told you?!"

"Well, considering no one's bloody talked to me all summer except for a muggle, I'd have to say NO!" Harry shouted back sarcastically. He notched a vicious-looking carbon arrow with a large quad-bladed arrow head and let it fly. It blew through the tree branch he was aiming at, severing it completely from the tree. They all watched as the branch slammed into the ground. Ron gave a visible flinch.

"Well, have fun you two!" Ginny said brightly, turning tail into the house. Ron swallowed nervously.

"We're sorry Harry," he said genuinely. "I guess we listen to Dumbledore too much, but it can't be helped, yeah? He's _the _Dumbledore after all."

Harry sighed. "Whatever, forget about it," he said, flipping the lever on his bow. It folded up and he slid it into the holster. "I'm totally over it, I just wanted to see you two _**squirm**_!"

Hermione let out a laugh. "Harry, you prat!" she scolded, cuffing him on the arm. "Ouch! Harry, have you been exercising?"

Harry looked bewildered as he flexed his right arm. There was a noticable bulge when he did that. "No, I haven't," he exclaimed. "It must be because the draw on my bow is so heavy, and I've been practicing a lot..."

Hermione patted his arm, her cheeks a rosy red. "Well, I'd say it's a good improvement on you," she said. Harry raised an eyebrow.

"Are you saying I was scrawny before?"

Hermione looked horrified, until she saw him smirking. She socked him in the stomach this time, making him grimace. "You're especially cheeky this summer Mr. Potter," she said in a posh tone, before flouncing off into the house. Ron and Harry were laughing all the way behind her.

-----

"So what are we going to do all summer?" Harry asked Sirius as they sat down for supper that night. Mrs. Weasley had made a beefy stew that was making him salivate.

Sirius scratched his goatee and pondered for a moment. "Well, not much except for cleaning up while the Order gathers information," he said, ignoring the dirty look Mrs. Weasley gave him. "Oh come off it Molly, Harry has a right to know."

She sniffed as she served them their soup bowls, Harry's being significantly larger than Sirius', whose was slightly smaller than everyone else's. "He's just a boy Sirius," she said disdainfully. "Let him focus on his education."

Sirius made a face. "The same education that got him attacked pretty much every year he's been there?" he shot back questioningly. "Not to mention him watching Voldemort's rebirth and a classmate dying. I'm _suuuure_ he'll be completely focused Molly. Focused on not dying of course."

"Sirius Black!" Mrs. Weasley shrieked, making Ron and his siblings edge away. "How could you bring that up? Poor Harry, he's been through so much -"

"It's okay Mrs. Weasley," Harry said, placating the red haired woman. "Really, it's fine. What Sirius said is true, and Dumbledore's taking steps to keep me safe and I'm also learning to protect myself as well."

"Oh Harry dear..."

"I feel totally safe with my bow," Harry continued enthusiastically. His face grew pale. "Bloody hell!" he cursed, making Mrs. Weasley 'tch' at him. "The tournament! Ms. Cooper's going to murder me!"

He nearly bolted from his seat, but Sirius held him down. "Harry, Harry, calm down!" he said. "What is this tournament you speak of? Wasn't this year's enough for you?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's an archery tournament I entered," he explained. "Ms. Cooper is expecting me to compete, and it's tomorrow! She's probably thinking I skipped town or something!"

"Well, why don't you send her a muggle post, telling her you can't go," Mrs. Weasley said with a smile. It was wiped off her face when Harry glared at her.

"I'm not letting her down!" he said stubbornly. "She was the only one who was there for me this summer, and I am going to that tournament!"

"Now see here Harry, Dumbledore -"

"Oh let him go Molly," Sirius groaned. "It's a muggle thing, so we won't have to worry about Death Eaters or even the Ministry! Besides, as his _legal_ guardian, I say he should go as well."

Mrs. Weasley huffed. "Fine!" she said angrily. "Do as you like!"

She stormed out of the room, making Sirius snicker. "She can't accept that good ol' Sirius makes the calls when it comes to you," he said. He then turned serious. "However, I don't want you going without some form of protection, your bow withstanding. Would you be alright if you had a small guard come with you?"

Harry nodded emphatically. "Sure, maybe Professor Lupin and Tonks can come, with you as their dog?" he asked. Sirius beamed.

"That sounds like a plan! I'll go ask them now!"

"Can we come?" Hermione begged. "It's ever so boring in here!"

"Yeah, this place sucks!" Ron said with his mouth full of soup. He glanced at Sirius. "Er - I mean..."

"No worries Ron, I happen to agree fully with you!" Sirius let out a bark of laughter. "Now Harry, finish your soup, and I'll get everything ready for you!"

"Thanks Sirius, you're the greatest!" Harry said happily, digging into his soup with a vengeance. Sirius looked smitten.

"Yes. Yes I am," he said with a swagger as he hurried out of the kitchen.

-----

"Well, I was wondering if you had dropped off the face of the planet or not!" Ms. Cooper said with a relieved smile as she gave Harry a hug. "Then out of the blue, you appear out of nowhere, and on the day of the tourney as well! And who have we got here?"

"These are my friends, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Fred and George," Harry introduced. Once Ginny had learned that Ron was going, she of course, begged to go as well. And the twins, well, even Mrs. Weasley couldn't stop them. "And this is Remus and Tonks, and their dog Snuffles."

If dogs could give a saucy smile, well, Ms. Cooper was on the recieving end of one from Sirius. Remus gave him a hard pat on the head. Ms. Cooper laughed.

"Quite an amusing bunch of friends you have here!" she said, patting Sirius on the head. "Now, let me explain the tournament to you.

"There are six tiers. Tier six consists of ten competitors - in this case, you - that are paired together randomly. You must defeat your oppenent to go up to pier five, where you basically do it all over again. If you reach Tier one, then you are in the finals, and are competing against the person who has beaten everyone else on their side. If you win, then you win a trophy and five thousand pounds! However, you only have a set amount of time to fire three arrows! The time will get shorter the higher you go! The bullseyes will also shrink! So, try your hardest!"

Ms. Cooper grew serious. "Watch out for the one girl, she's a real tart!" she warned. "She's _very_ good, and knows it! Arrogance, I tell you! By jove Harry, if you beat that girl I will simply have to adopt you myself!"

Harry laughed, shifting his bowbag on his shoulder. "You'd love to, wouldn't you?" he asked as she began to register him into the tournament. He was given a piece of paper which was taped to his back, showing his name and number: 10.

"Now, give it your all!" Ms. Cooper cheered, as she and Harry's friends made it to the stands. Ron gave him a thumbs up before Harry was out of their view.

-----

_"For our last entry round, we have Harry Potter and Krystal Worthington!"_

The crowd clapped politely as Harry and a short girl with plaided hair stepped up. They were directed to a sort of open booth, where they would stand. Off in the distance at 50 feet were target boards. When the whistle blew, Harry would have 30 seconds to get the best score with three arrows. He started his breathing patterns. His fingers were grazing the ends of the arrow shafts in his holster. He noticed that the girl, Krystal, looked nervous. The whistle blew.

In an instant, Harry drew an arrow, notched and fired it. It slammed directly into the bullseye, eliciting applause from the crowd. He grinned, and took out his second arrow. He still had over 20 seconds to shoot. He notched it and aimed carefully. This one hit the borderline on the right of the bullseye, in-between it and the second section. Harry knew that it would count as another bullseye. With ten seconds to go, Harry planted his last arrow easily into the bullseye. The whistle blew again, and more clapping was heard. He looked over to see his oppenent's target. She had gotten two bullseyes and a middle hit. She gave him a sad smile, but he shook her hand and told her she did a great job.

As Harry was led back to the waiting room, he glanced at the scoreboards. He had been moved up onto pier five against a boy named Marcus Hamilton. He went over to the refreshments stand and bought himself an iced tea, before sitting at one of the many plush couches to drink it. Several minutes later, he felt someone sit beside him. He looked over to see a stunningly pretty girl about his age, maybe older, sitting next to him. He swallowed his iced tea and said, "May I help you?"

"You're that _new_ boy, aren't you?" she asked with a hint of disdain in her voice. "The one Elizabeth Cooper brought in?"

"Er, yes?" Harry answered with a raised eyebrow. He sipped at his Nestea.

"Everyone's been saying that you have a lot of skill, but you look like a mere _amateur_ in my eyes," she said, flicking her very long blonde hair over her shoulder. "I am Nokia Burns, England's finest young archer."

"Isn't Nokia a cell phone company?" Harry asked.

"Shut up!" she snapped, and Harry chuckled quietly. She gave him an evil look. "You should just quit you know, you won't ever beat me, let along make it to another tier."

Harry finished his drink and threw it into the recycling bin some distance away. "Listen miss, I've seen scarier faces than yours, many of which have tried to kill me," he said, standing up and stretching. "A prissy little bowgirl with an unattractive attitude doesn't come near my radar. I'll see you in the finals."

-----

"Someone grew a spine!" Fred laughed as he and Harry's friends watched Nokia flounce away angrily. "When did that happen to our meek little Harrikins?"

"Sometime last month," Harry said, fiddling with his bow. "Ms. Cooper was right about that one, she's a total tart!"

"Harry," Hermione chastised, "That's pretty rude..."

"Not nearly as rude as her," Harry answered. "'_You look like a mere __**amateur**__ in my eyes_.', honestly, who says that?"

"You tell that prissy snit!" George cheered. "And when you've utterly annihilated her in the finals, claim her as your prize!"

"Ge-orge you idiot!" Ginny muttered, socking him in the gut.

_"Next up, Harry Potter and Marcus Hamilton!"_

-----

"He's quite good, isn't he?" Remus asked Ms. Cooper as they watched Harry beat another opponent. He was quite awed by the young man's skills.

Ms. Cooper nodded vigorously. "Considering that he's holding his own in a tournament after only shooting for a month, it's damn well incredible!" she said. "The way he shoots that bow is almost... magical."

She was off in dreamland while Remus, Tonks and Snuffles shared a grin. "His godfather is very proud of him," Tonks added. "You should've seen him, prancing about like a fool, telling the world that his godson was some world-famous archer! Hah!"

"Godfather you say?" Ms. Cooper asked. "Well, I'm glad he has _someone_ to keep him in line!"

Tonks sniggered while Remus coughed, making Snuffles glare at them. "I wouldn't exactly say that," Tonks answered. "His name may be Sirius, but I can assure you, he's hardly ever!"

"I'll have to meet him someday," Ms. Cooper mused, making Snuffles bark happily.

Remus gave him a tug on the ear. "Oy, keep it in your fur you mangy mutt!" he whispered when Ms. Cooper wasn't paying attention.

-----

_"We now present the finalists, Miss. Nokia Burns and Mr. Harry Potter!"_

Harry and Nokia walked out into their booths, surveying the targets in front of them. They were placed 100 feet away, and the bullseyes were only 6 inches in diameter. Harry looked over to Nokia, who gave him a raspberry. He pulled his right eyelid down and stuck his tongue out at her.

_"The competitors have precisely fifteen seconds to fire their arrows! Begin on the whistle blow, and good luck!"_

This time, Harry and his opponent were allowed to notch and draw their arrows back before the whistle blow. He did so and waited for it. It came mere seconds later, and he quickly aimed, widening his eyes so he could see better. Strangely, his vision got better while doing that instead of squinting. He let the arrow loose and quickly notched another one, not bothering to see where he hit it. His second arrow flew and he had less than five seconds for his last one. With great effort, Harry notched, aimed and fired his arrows just as the whistle blew. He heard a strange metallic impact a moment later and wondered what it was. Releasing his grip on the bow, Harry let it swing on his thumb, using his index finger to flip the lever. He folded it up and turned around to face the judges, as did Nokia, who looked frazzled.

"Our judges have recieved the targets! They will begin with Miss. Burns' results!"

Nokia's target stand was brought out, and Harry saw her arrows sticking out from the side.

"Three bullseyes, with a two inch spread!" the main judge called out, and there was lots of applause. Nokia smirked at Harry, who shrugged. She didn't understand that he was only playing for fun, and didn't care about winning.

"Now, the results for Mr. Potter! Oh my! Well, would you look at that!"

The crowd grew quiet as they awaited his results. Harry nervously ran his hands through his hair, no doubt making it wilder. Nokia was watching him curiously.

"It appears that Mr. Potter has three bullseyes as well! However, his final arrow split his second one straight down the shaft!"

The crowd broke out into loud applause, as Harry's target was shown on the screen, his last arrow plunged straight through his other one, which was split into four pieces. Harry now knew that it was that which caused the metallic noise he had heard.

"Along with such incredible skill, Mr. Potter has also achieved a half inch spread! We declare him the winner!"

Harry broke out into a broad smile as the judges and owners of Nookington's came forward and presented him with a large trophy that had a vertical arrow on it, with the words _1995 Youth Archery Champion_ engraved at the base. He was also given a cheque for five thousand pounds and got his picture taken with everyone (including a thoughtful Nokia) for the London Times.

Nokia had recieved second place, with a smaller silver trophy and two thousand pounds. As Harry was being congratulated by all his friends, she walked up to him with her parents, a tall, sophisticated-looking man with short brown hair and an elegant woman who looked just like her daughter. Harry broke away from Fred and George's backslaps and stood in front of Nokia.

"Good job, I guess," she said somewhat meekly, humbled by his skill. "I guess you're not an amateur then."

Harry smiled and offered his hand. She placed her small one in it and they shook. "Guess not," he replied. "So... I'll see you next year?"

She glanced at her parents, who smiled at her encouragingly. "Well... how about next Friday?" she asked.

George silently pumped his fist in victory as Ginny scowled at her idiot brother.

-----

"I can't believe you're going on a date with that girl!" Sirius chortled as they lounged about in the living room. "I mean, hey, she's quite the looker and all, but didn't Ms. Cooper say she was a tart?"

"I guess she had to be taken down a few pegs," Harry replied, burying his face into his Helix owner's manual. "I think she can be nice if she wants to be. And - er - she's really pretty."

Ron scoffed. "Right Harry," he said. "Calling her 'really pretty' is like saying 'Hogwarts is really big'. She's bloody smoking mate! Did you see how long her hair was?"

"I bet it took her years and years to grow it that long," Hermione noted from her spot on the couch, _Hogwarts, A History_ on her lap. "It must be a nightmare to wash."

"Says the one with hair akin to a tumbleweed," Ginny giggled. Hermione stuck her tongue out at her. "So, what are you going to do for your date Harry?"

"I dunno, go see a film?" Harry answered. "Well, dinner before as well. I can use my prize money as well, so I won't have to exchange Galleons at Gringotts."

Ron lay back on the loveseat. "Five thousand muggle pounds, that's about a thousand Galleons isn't it?" he asked. "Blimey, that's wicked! I should learn how to shoot bows, then I could compete in muggle tournaments as well!"

"I could teach you if you'd like," Harry volunteered, making Ron sit up eagerly. "But you'll have to buy your own bow."

"I'm sure I could get my parents to let me get one," Hermione said. "They're always telling me to be more involved in sports. Could you teach me as well Harry?"

"Sure," Harry said with a grin. "I'll call Ms. Cooper tomorrow and ask her if she can take us on a shopping expedition. Is that okay Sirius?"

Sirius sat up as well. "Well, not unless you had a guard," he mused. "I _suppose_ I could go..."

"But Sirius, you can't be serious!" Harry exclaimed. He then slapped himself on the forehead. "God, that was lame. You're still wanted by the police, and the Ministry!"

Sirius laughed. "Oh come now Harry, you think a few glamour charms won't help me out?" he asked. "A few subtle ones, so I'll look like me, but not like me at the same time! It's all good!"

"Er, I don't think I should go then," Ron said, his face red. "This bow stuff sounds expensive and, well..."

Harry immediately understood his friends' financial situation. He then brightened. "Well, how about we make it an early birthday present then?" he asked. "I'll just use my prize money!"

Ron looked horrified. "Harry, you can't!" he gasped. "You won it fair and square, I couldn't!"

Harry waved him off. "Don't worry about it, you're my best mate!" he said honestly. "And besides, I'm not taking no for an answer!" he finished, thinking of what Ms. Cooper had told him. "Think about it, the Ministry can't detect magic used with a bow for some reason, so this will help us if we ever get into a sticky situation!"

Ron sighed loudly. "Well, if you insist," he said with a grin. Harry beamed at him.

"Then it's settled! Sirius, escort me to a payphone!"


	4. Chapter 4

Short filler chapter today. Wrote it while listening to Ayu's new 'fated' single. Great song for the setting of this chapter, go grab it even if you can't understand it lol. It sounds great!

**Archer**

"How about Toy Story?" Harry asked as he and Nokia scanned the theatre listings. The pretty teenager with knee-length blond hair made a face.

"Maybe if we were five," she said. "Pochahontas?"

Harry grimaced. "Maybe if I were five and also a girl," he answered. "Goldeneye?"

Nokia 'hmm'd. "British, Pierce Brosnan, lots of explosions," she mused. "Okay!"

Harry paid for the tickets for the ten o'clock show and stashed them in the dragonhide wallet Sirius had gotten him. He explained to Nokia that it was very expensive leather. They then wandered the nearby streets of London, searching for a nice place to eat. They passed by quite a few McDonald's and fast food joints before finally settling in on the Micheal Moore. Harry was a bit nervous about going in, but Nokia pushed him in anyways. Inside it was cozy and the atmosphere was friendly. They were quickly escorted to a nice table by the window by the maitre'd and were given menus.

"Would you like a drink to start off with?" they were asked. Harry asked for a glass of iced tea (it had gotten addictive) while Nokia requested for some sparkling water. The waiter gave them a small bow before heading off to get their drinks.

"It's nice in here," Harry said, looking around. It seemed like a quiet night, and there were only a few tables full. Nokia nodded enthusiastically.

"My mother and I come here quite often," she said. "Usually when I win a tournament, or recieve good grades at school."

"Oh that's nice!" Harry said, giving her a smile and playing with his napkin. "What school do you go to?"

"Oh, I go to Mill Hill," she replied, happy with the non-awkward-first-date-conversation. "It's a school for boys and girls. Where do you go?"

Harry shifted in his seat. "Uh, well I go to - eh - Hogwarts up in Scotland," he answered vaguely. Nokia nodded.

"I've heard about that school," she said, placing a fingertip to her lips. Harry watched her every move in fascination. "It's supposed to be _extremely_ exclusive, they hardly accept anyone but the best I've heard! And you go there Harry?"

Harry nodded in relief, figuring that the magical world would of course have an excuse for the muggles. "Yes, it's amazing actually. The whole place is just magical!"

Nokia laughed and they opened their menus, for their stomachs were growling and their movie was coming up in 3 hours. Harry was totally boggled with what appeared before him. _Cream of leek_? _Cured_ salmon? Then what was normal salmon? He looked to Nokia helplessly. She laughed, her throaty voice playing with his ears.

"Oh Harry, you must not eat out much," she giggled. "Let me choose for you, kay?"

Harry nodded. Their waiter came back and stood by their table. "Would you like to start off with an appetizer?" he asked. Nokia nodded.

"Yes, we'll both have the Canadian lobster, though easy on the lardons please," Nokia instructed. The waiter nodded while writing it down. "As for main courses, I think I'll have the duck breast, while he will have the Lamb roulade, but please serve them fifteen minutes after our starters."

"Very good miss, I'll have your starters to you shortly," he said, placing their drinks on the table from a nearby tray. "Enjoy your night!"

"That all sounded so... complicated," Harry said as the waiter dissapeared with their menus. Nokia took a sip of her sparkling water and smiled.

"You get used to it after a while," she said. "But seriously, all this fancy eating gets to me sometimes. I wish I could just cut loose and eat some fish and chips for once!"

"Why don't you?" Harry asked curiously. She waved him off.

"Oh, because mother would freak out on me, and I'm trying to stay fit for my sports," she said. "It's a pain being beautiful."

"And modest, so to speak," Harry grinned. "Well how about this: once the film is over, I'm taking you for some fish and chips!"

She giggled. "Oh Harry, you don't have to!" she said.

"No no no," Harry argued. "And to make sure you don't get out of shape, I will gladly eat most of yours as well."

Her laughter tinkled over the soft music playing, making some of the nearby customers smile. "Oh, well thank you then, noble knight!" she mock-swooned.

Soon, not even half an hour later, their starters arrived and they enjoyed their lobster tails, dipping them in tartar sauce and bickering about archery. Afterwards, Harry greatly enjoyed his lamb, which was delicious (albeit small) and they made small talk about everything. The owner of the store, Micheal Moore himself, came by near the end of the meal and chatted them for a while, asking if the service and food was great and generally being a very thoughtful propriator. Soon, they paid their very reasonable bill and left for the movies.

-----

"Okay, okay, how is it that James Bond's car fit so many weapons?" Nokia asked as she munched on some fried fish. "I mean, for God's sake, he's got rocket launchers and machine guns where his motor should be!"

Harry rubbed his chin. "Well, it's a BMW," he reasoned. "Those Germans can fit anything anywhere."

She laughed and grabbed a fry from his newspaper container, feeding him it with a wink. "I also hate the fact that he is such a womanizer," she said, leaning on a nearby bench. She sat down and pulled Harry along with her. "I mean, if he tried that on me I'd leave, _with_ his balls."

Harry winced.

They sat there for a while, watching the boats on the Thames. After the movie, they had wandered around for quite a bit. Nokia snuggled up to Harry's shoulder, and lay her head on it. "Harry?"

"Yes?"

"I like you."

"I like you too."

"I mean I _really_ like you."

"Oh. Why?"

She bit his arm, making him yelp and drop a few fries. "Git. I dunno, you're such a sweet guy. Plus, you haven't looked down my top all night," she added thoughtfully.

"Was I supposed to?" Harry asked lecherously, waggling his eyebrows. She had been wearing a tight-fitting tee with a plunging V neck, and wore a half-jacket on top of it. She also wore a brown skirt underneath, which reached her ankles. Her hair was tied up in a french braid, and she had dusted on some light makeup. Now that he thought about it, Harry wondered why he _didn't_ look down her shirt at all, since he could very clearly see the lacy black bra underneath. They pressed tightly against the swells of her -

"_Now_ you're staring," she said softly, making him raise his eyes to hers. Their faces neared.

"Do you want to -"

"Harry."

"Yes Nokia?"

"You're going to kiss me, and you're going to enjoy it, got that?"

"Yes ma'am!"

-----

"No Ron, you can't hold your bow like that, it must be perfectly aligned with your body," Harry said, correcting Ron on his stance as he was teaching his friends how to shoot arrows. "Hermione, legs wider a bit, don't bend your neck so much."

"Sorry Harry," she apologized, correcting herself. "Is this better?"

"Much," Harry said, stepping back. "Now, both of you take your time to aim and -"

Ron let loose too quickly, and managed to score a spectactular kill of the ground. Harry shook his head. "Ron mate, what did I say? This isn't like dueling with a wand. With a bow you must have patience, or you won't hit anything at all!"

Ron sighed and wiped his sweaty palm on his trousers before gripping his PSE Optima again. "Right, right, I keep forgetting that," he said, putting on a look of concentration normally reserved for playing chess. "I'll get this..."

Hermione however, had done quite well, and actually hit her target. She had struck the outside mark, but a hit was a hit. "I did it!"

"I'll bet Elizabeth would be proud of you Harry, for teaching your friends archery," Sirius said with a smile. "We should go visit her before term starts next week."

Harry rolled his eyes. "Like I'm sure you'd want to visit Ms. Cooper just to tell her how great of a teacher I am," he said slyly. Sirius merely shrugged.

_Two weeks earlier..._

"It's nice to meet you," Ms. Cooper said, shaking Sirius' hand enthusiastically. "You must be Harry's godfather, Sirius, correct?"

"Yes indeed," Sirius said, giving her a smile and wink. He was currently glamoured to have brown hair and eyes, and had shaven his moustache off, leaving only his trademark goatee. His hair was cut quite short as well, making the ex-convict look clean for once. "It's a _pleasure_ to meet you miss."

Ms. Cooper laughed, pressing her hand on his chest. "Oh my, now I see where Harry gets his charm from!" she said, giving Sirius a flirtatious smile while Harry nearly gagged himself to death. "By the way Harry, how _is_ that horrible tart of a girlfriend of yours?"

Harry made a face. "She's not that bad, it's just her upbringing that made her that way," he said in Nokia's defense.

"Like a little blond twit we all know," Sirius muttered to himself.

"And she's _great_, thankyouverymuch."

"Well then, I won't tell you who to date or not," Ms. Cooper said, "And I'm happy for you. God knows you teenagers need to release all that tension and hormones! Now, Sirius, what say you to some coffee? I know this _splendid_ cafe that's not to far away, I can drive us there?"

Sirius grinned. "Sure!" he replied. "So Lizzy (can I call you that?) how did you meet young Harry here?"

And so began Sirius' conquest to court Ms. Cooper, Harry's muggle friend. It was a disaster waiting to happen.

_Present time..._

"I'm being honest Harry," Sirius said. "You've got the natural skills to be a leader or a teacher. Must be Lily's genes in you."

Harry looked up. "Mum's?" he asked.

Sirius looked affronted. "I still can't believe that no one tells you much about your parents," he sighed. He patted the stone bench he was standing before. "Come, sit! I'll tell you all about the wonderful woman that was your mother."

Harry sat down and Sirius slung his arm over his shoulder. "Now, Lily was quite gifted, no, that doesn't do her justice," Sirius continued. "She was a bloody female _Merlin_ when it came to Charms. Give ol' Flitwick a run for his money came sixth year, I'll tell you that. She was so good that Flitwick took her under an apprenticeship, so that she could be the Charms mistress when he decided to retire. As you know, she couldn't really do that and that is why Flitwick is still teaching Charms at Hogwarts."

"My mum would have been a teacher?" Harry asked quietly. Sirius nodded sadly.

"Imagine that," he sighed wistfully. "Not only would you have Dumbledore bailing you out of trouble, but your mum as well."

"What about my dad?" Harry asked eagerly. "All I know of him is that he was a Seeker like me, and looks like me."

Sirius chuckled. "Ah, that old dog," he said. "Your father was set to join the Auror Academy right after Hogwarts, had Lily not gotten pregnant with you. When she did, he decided to devote his time to wife and child, and rightfully so I say! It was decided that once you were old enough, he would either rejoin the Academy or become a Hit-Wizard."

"Hit-Wizard?" Harry asked.

"Kind of like the wizarding world's version of the army," Sirius replied. "We were in large demand of them during the first war with Voldemort. Your father was a frightening fighter, made a lot of Death Eaters as scared as they were Mad-Eye. In battle he would transfigure inanimate objects into lions and tigers and bears."

Sirius laughed for a moment. "He always loved that movie," he mused. "Anyways, that's all I know of your parents' stolen future. I so very wish that they didn't die."

Harry looked down. "So do I," he said. "Pretty much every day. But... as long as we have them in our memories... and hearts, then... they'll always live on inside of us. Right?"

Sirius looked over to the boy and smiled. He cuffed Harry's head and pulled him into a one-armed hug. "That's right Harry," he said. "Your father lives through you in your patronus. And your mother is your spirit. Always remember that."


	5. Chapter 5

**Archer**

"Have a good year you lot!" Mrs. Weasley cried as Harry and his friends waved through the window of their car on the Hogwarts Express. "Keep up the good work, Harry dear!"

"I will Mrs. Weasley!" Harry called back as she began to get smaller and smaller as the train left the station. "Goodbye!"

Sitting back down, the three best friends shared a smile with eachother. Placed atop the luggage racks in their compartment were their trunks, animal cages and half-moon shaped cases, containing bows. Hermione was currently flipping through the pages of the _Daily Prophet_, but judging by the size of her scowl, she didn't think too highly of its articles. Ron was reading a book (yes, he does that once in a blue moon) about his bow, and trying to figure out all the mathematical mumbo jumbo concerning its specs. Harry watched his two friends for a moment before deciding to go out and get something from the food trolley.

"You guys want anything from the trolley?" he asked, standing up.

"Can you get me six sugar quills?" Hermione asked, handing him six knuts. "Thank you Harry!"

"Packet of Droobles -" Ron started,

"And a licorice wand," Harry finished, and they shared a grin.

"Hey now -" a voice said,

"Don't be stealing our show," another finished, and Fred and George entered the compartment. "Wotcher guys."

"Hello Fred, George," Harry said. "Hate to leave when you arrive, but I'm heading for the food trolley."

"She's probably near the third or fourth car by now," George helpfully informed Harry. "We passed by the ol' gal on our way back here."

"Thanks George! Bye!"

-----

"Anything off the trolley dear?" the trolley lady asked as Harry caught up to her on her run.

"Yes please," Harry said, taking out his money. "Six sugar quills, a packet of droobles, a licorice wand and, um, two chocolate frogs and five pumpkin pasties please."

"My my, you three sure are hungry tonight!" she exclaimed, readying Harry's order. "That'll be eleven sickles and two knuts dearie."

Harry gave her one of his galleon coins, and recieved his change and candy. Thanking her, he made his way back to his car, only to run into someone he didn't really want to see at the moment, or all year. The Chinese girl in front of him froze as he stopped in front of her.

"Er, Cho," Harry greeted awkwardly.

"Harry," she said.

"Well, how was your summer?" Harry asked, his confidence somewhat bolstered by the fact that he had a girlfriend.

"Oh, well it was - um..." she trailed off and Harry could have hit himself.

"Right, not that great, I should've known," he apologized. "I'm sorry for dredging up bad memories."

"It's alright," she said quickly. "I mean... I really miss him and all but..."

"Well well well, what have we got here, Pothead and the newest single of Hogwarts?" a snide voice asked, as Draco Malfoy and his cronies Crabbe and Goyle swaggered up. "I didn't think you'd stoop so low Potter, than to steal old dead Ced's girlfriend so soon after his untimely demise."

Cho looked as if she had been struck and Harry fought to control his anger.

"God Malfoy, you're like - like - genital herpes!" he spat out, thoroughly confusing the pureblood and making Cho laugh. "Once you butt into my life, you're there forever and pop up at the _most_ unopportune times! It's a good thing that my girlfriend doesn't go to Hogwarts, else I'd be seeing more of you than I really want."

"Girlfriend?" Cho asked faintly.

"_You_ have a girlfriend?!" Malfoy asked incredulously.

"One thing _you_ don't have ferret-face," Harry quipped back. "Now if you'll excuse me, I'd like to go back to my compartment, enjoy my sweets with my friends and not think about you, because that induces vomiting, and I really don't like to vomit. Cheerio!"

And so Harry left Malfoy and co. and Cho standing there in the middle of the car, looking as confused as a Japanese otaku out in the country side with no internet or phone line.

-----

"Finally, a Sorting song," Harry exclaimed as he, Ron and Hermione sat at the Gryffindor table as the Sorting Hat sang. The song this year sounded more... crytic than before. Then again, Harry hadn't exactly paid attention to the other songs, so maybe it was just him. Once the last tiny first year was sorted into their house, the feast began. Harry and his friends enjoyed their dinner as they talked, laughed, and generally totally ignored the surrounding students, many of whom were giving Harry snide or apprehensive looks. It was all the _Prophet's _doing, of course, since they needed a scapegoat or two to pin Minister Fudge's complete incompetence onto, and who better than the world's most powerful wizard and troubled teenager to do it on?

"And I would like Hogwarts to extend a warm welcome to our new Defense Against the Dark Arts professor, Madame Delores Umbridge!" Dumbledore introduced, to some clapping. "Now, next on the news is -"

"Hem hem."

Dumbledore paused in his announcements as he was interrupted by Umbridge. Many students and teachers (especially Professor McGonagall) were shocked that someone would dare interrupt the mighty Dumbledore. Harry immediately didn't trust the toad-like woman, with her squat fat body, and her bloated cheeks and God forsaken pink clothes, so he just tuned her out, confident that Hermione would decipher whatever it was the toad lady said.

He was proven correct when Hermione rapidly explained to he and Ron that Umbridge was basically at Hogwarts to keep an eye on everything and spy for the Ministry.

"Is it me or is the line between the Ministry and Voldemort getting blurry?" Harry asked nonchalently. "I mean, at least Tom's all sneaky and secretive about it, but come on! Could the Ministry be any more blatent in what they're doing?"

"All I know is that this spells bad news for Hogwarts," Hermione said forbodingly. And so it was.

Their first DADA class was an utter disaster, since Umbridge had no itention of letting the students perform or practice their spells, deeming it unecessary in a 'time of peace'. Harry recieved a detention for speaking up against her, and was told to go to her office after classes in the evening.

"I'm here for my _totally, completely stupid and unjust _detention Professor," Harry said, stepping into what looked like the mortal version of hell. His bookbag and a crescent-moon bag hung from his shoulder.

PINK!

CATS!

CORNELIUS!

PINK!

"Oh God, I think I'm gonna vomit," Harry gagged, as the amphibian-like professor entered the room.

"Welcome to your detention, Mr. Potter," she said in that sickly sweet voice.

"Okay, before we get started, could you humour me one thing?" Harry pleaded. She looked delighted.

"And what would that be?"

"For the love of Merlin and maybe my ear drums, could you speak in a normal voice?" Harry asked annoyedly, flopping down into a chair without permission. "I'd kinda like to lose my hearing when I'm at least a hundred or so."

Umbridge's face grew stony. "Very well then," she allowed coldly. "For your detention tonight, you are to write lines. Here is some parchment. No no, you'll be using a... _special_ quill tonight," she added when Harry brought out his quill. "It requires no ink, just write away."

Harry raised an eyebrow, but took the quill nonetheless. "What do I write?" he asked.

"_I must not tell lies_," she told him with a grim smile.

Harry pressed the quill down on the parchment and slid it down to write an _I_. He felt a jab on his hand and looked to see the exact letter carved into his flesh, leaving a shallow cut about half a centimeter long. "The bloody...?"

"Keep writing Potter," Umbridge said almost gleefully. "You must be punished!"

"Oh bleeding hell I won't!" Harry argued, standing up angrily and placing his palms on the desk. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say this was torture!"

"It's merely a standard disciplinary procedure," Umbridge sniffed. "Now sit down and write your lines, or it's a week's worth of detentions for you!"

"You can take your detentions and sod off woman, because I wouldn't go near them with a ten foot wand!" Harry shouted, grabbing his bags and turning to the door.

_"Colloportus!"_ Umbridge cried, sealing the door with a squealch. "You're not going anywhere Potter!"

Harry quickly unzipped his bowbag and withdrew his Helix, giving it a flick to unfold it. Before Umbridge could figure out what he was doing, Harry notched a holly arrow and drew the string back, aiming for the door. _"Reducto!"_ he yelled, standing mere feet away from the exit.

The resulting explosion knocked Harry off his feet, making him land on his rear as the door and entire wall section was virtually disintigrated, leaving a huge hole where the office's wall used to be. China plates with moving cats on them fell to the floor, shattering on impact as the room shook from the shockwave. Harry quickly notched another arrow just as Umbridge got her bearings, and they pointed wand to arrow in a standoff.

"POTTER!" Umbridge shrieked. "I'll have you expelled for this! No, no, sent to Azkaban for sure! The minister will be so pleased when I bring you to Azkaban, you little whelp!"

_Stupefy_, Harry thought, and his arrow transformed into a bright red bolt. His fingertips tingled as they held the back of the pulsating lance of magical energy, and his eyes hardened.

"Try and take me," was all he said, as he raised his bow slightly higher while Umbridge began to cast a spell...


End file.
